The Game
by Lord Kieran
Summary: Challengefic. After centuries of fighting the Dark Lord, Harry Potter has given up trying to destroy him. Or has he? CharacterDeath. Slash.


Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it probably does not belong to me. Everything else is mine.

Warnings: This story contains semi-graphic sex between two men. Character Death.

Challenge: The challenge was to pick a quote or a couple of quotes (I used seven aren't I greedy) and write a one-shot, drabble, poem, chapter-fic, etc. Basically whatever came to mind. Well, since my mind tends towards the angsty, depressing side of life, what you read below is what happened.

1. At the end of the game both the king and the pawn are put in the same box.

4. Hate isn't the opposite of love… indifference is.

6. Sometimes, when you finally get what you've been working for, you realize that it had been the process which had kept you going, not the prize.

10. I have not failed. I've just found thousands of ways that don't work.

11. Life is meant to be lived, not controlled.

12. When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

14. I can't stand your presence, but once you're gone I can't stand the loneliness.

The Game

With barely a sound to indicate their movement, the doors to Hogwarts Great Hall swung open. The Hall itself was deathly quiet even with the crowd of people that lingered there. Without the trademark house tables, the room seemed larger and more vacant despite the occupants. Shades of green and red covered everything in a mockery of cheerful color.

A lone figure cloaked in robes of deep grey that did little to hide the accumulated grime, strode confidently into the hushed atmosphere of the Great Hall. Looking neither right nor left, the person walked directly towards the throne that had been erected in place of the head table. Red eyes watched eagerly as the figure approached.

Upon reaching the foot of the small steps, the figure threw back the hood of the cloak to reveal wild, dark hair and flashing green eyes. Lines of strain and hardship could be seen around his mouth and the corners of his eyes. The familiar glasses were gone, replaced by contacts. Without them, the eyes seemed larger than before and the green of his eyes burned brighter.

"Harry Potter." The man reclining lazily upon the black throne practically oozed triumph as he spoke the name.

"Tom Riddle." Harry replied, his voice devoid of emotion. There was an angry stirring in the crowd behind him but he gave no acknowledgement to their animosity.

"Have you come to realize at last the foolishness of your rebellion?"

"It is my destiny to kill you." Harry said, raising his chin defiantly.

Instead of being angered as one might expect of the man once known as Tom Riddle, mocking laughter rebounded throughout the hall. "And yet, every attempt has failed. Tell me, Harry, does it not fill you with despair?"

"I have not failed." Harry shrugged. "I've just found thousands of ways that didn't work."

"How amusing." The Dark Lord drawled. "And have you found a way to kill me then?"

Harry remained silent and his burning gaze fell to the floor. He stiffened when he heard the unmistakable sound of the Dark Lord rising from his throne but he refused to look up. The feel of dark energy approaching him was slightly intoxicating and he cursed himself silently.

"So then, Harry," the words were breathed directly into his ear and he stifled a shudder, "why have you come?"

Looking up when a hand touched his face gently, Harry found himself lost in deep red eyes that pierced his soul. The handsome face of Tom Riddle was so close to his own that their breath mingled. Knowing the inevitableness of the situation, Harry allowed his body to sway forward, his lips meeting those of his nemesis.

It was short, barely a touch of flesh to flesh, before Harry drew back. The Dark Lord made no move to reinitiate contact but he stared at Harry intently. A look of triumph glinted in his eyes and a smug grin stretched his thin lips.

"So, you have accepted my proposal?"

"I can't stand your presence." Harry hissed suddenly. Then his features softened to a wistful melancholy state. "But once you're gone I can't stand the loneliness."

"Ah." The Dark Lord whispered. "You miss your friends."

"It is your fault." Harry reminded him although he knew the reminder was not necessary. "You have cursed me with this never-ending existence."

The Dark Lord shrugged. "How was I to know my bid for immortality would affect you as well? You should feel privileged."

"Privileged?" Harry snorted. "Only you would think of it as such."

"You scorn the greatest gift in the universe." The Dark Lord grabbed hold of Harry and shook him gently. "I have gained mastery over life itself. And through me, you have as well."

"Life is meant to be lived not controlled." Harry did nothing to escape the firm grip of the Dark Lord which tightened as he spoke.

"Come." The Dark Lord announced abruptly. "This place is too open for such talks." He flicked a baleful red gaze at the crowd surrounding them. The fearful silence of his sycophants amused him greatly but he had no desire for them to hear the conversation between himself and the only man who would ever be his equal.

With a thought, he apparated them to the chambers he had taken when his conquest of Hogwarts had succeeded. They had once belonged to the doddering old fool, Dumbledore. It was too bad that the old Headmaster was long since brought down by a well aimed killing curse. He would have loved to see the look on the old man's face at the sight of his golden boy, Harry Potter, capitulating to his demands. An immense sense of satisfaction settled over him and for a long moment he stood in the middle of his sitting room with Harry ensconced in his arms.

"It looks better than it did the last time I was here." Harry murmured quietly, breaking the strange trance they had each fallen in to.

The Dark Lord looked at him curiously. "Oh?"

Looking more closely at his surroundings, Harry nodded to himself. His first assessment of the place had been right. The sitting room had been redone in shades of blue and brown. Not what one would expect from a Dark Lord. The last time Harry had been in the room, there had been numerous portraits lining the walls and everything had been christened with hues of yellow and pink. It had been highly disturbing to say the least.

"Albus always did have an odd taste in décor." Harry smiled in fond sadness.

The Dark Lord smirked. "I did the world a favor with his demise."

Frowning, Harry turned away from the Dark Lord, walking stiffly towards the room's large window. "Perhaps." He muttered.

"Oh? What is this?" The Dark Lord moved to stand beside Harry, close but not touching. "Albus Dumbledore's staunchest supporter agrees with me? I must be hearing things."

Harry, his face turned so the Dark Lord could not see it, snorted. "I am no fool, Tom. Dumbledore was a Light wizard. That does not mean he was a saint."

"That's not bitterness that I hear, is it Harry?"

"Bitter? No I am not bitter, I just see more clearly now than I did before." Harry shrugged almost casually. His eternally youthful features hardened as he turned his face towards the Dark Lord. "When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change."

A look of understanding crossed the Dark Lords pale features. "You have gained much wisdom in the last few centuries."

"Maybe." Harry grimaced. "It's unavoidable I should think."

A long, slender hand cupped the side of his face tenderly. "Just as it is unavoidable that you are here."

Harry tilted his head up as red eyes traced the contours of his face languidly. The fire that burned in those crimson orbs made his stomach flutter. His eyes fluttered closed just as thin lips pressed delicately against his own. The passion that simmered beneath the surface made Harry tremble.

When the kiss ended, he found himself swaying into the Dark Lords embrace, his arms clenching the man's robes in tight fists. A warm breath tickled his ear and he shivered at the tingles that swept through him. "You are mine."

"Yes." Harry breathed in response although it had not been a question. The Dark Lord bit down sharply on his neck drawing a strangled moan from his lips. The pain was pleasurable in a way Harry had never experienced before. A strange excitement started to burn within him.

"Shall I take you on the floor like a common whore, Harry? Or perhaps against the wall? Or bent over the couch?" The Dark Lord whispered huskily into his ear, licking the small pink shell. Whimpering, Harry shook his head, trying to regain control over his trembling body.

"Bed?" He managed to croak out.

A dark chuckled vibrated between their bodies. "As you wish."

There was a moment of disorientation causing Harry to release his strangle hold on the Dark Lords cloak and stumble backwards. He didn't have far to go, however, before he was falling backwards onto a surprising soft mattress. Before he had a chance to orient himself, the Dark Lord had him pinned to the bed with his slightly larger frame.

"Better?" The Dark Lord inquired before pressing his hips down firmly. Harry gasped as a jolt of pleasure shot up his body at the erection pressed brushing against his own that he could feel even through the thick robes they were wearing.

"Oh God." He whimpered as the Dark Lords warm mouth started nibbling on his neck. With the last part of his mind that was capable of coherent thought, Harry managed to bring his hands to the collar of the Dark Lords robes. Frantically, he began tugging at the offending garment, desperate to get his point across.

"So eager." The Dark Lord chuckled at Harry's feeble attempts to disrobe him. "Allow me."

With a negligent flick of his wrist, the offending garments and all that lay beneath disappeared, leaving bare flesh in their absence. Harry almost screamed at the sensation of all that warm skin suddenly pressed so intimately against his own. It made him so dizzy for a moment that he didn't notice the cool air hitting his skin as the Dark Lord leaned back. When he did notice, he didn't have long to shiver at the chill before hands began caressing him. From the top of his shoulders down to his hips, they traveled leaving a burning trail of desire in their wake. When the hands paused long enough to pinch his nipples, Harry moaned and began shifting restlessly.

"So sensitive." The Dark Lord purred. "One might think you an innocent."

Harry tried to glare at the man leaning over him but found himself gasping for breath as a hand finally curled around his erection. "I've...oh god...I've had sex with someone." He managed to stutter.

"Oh?" The jealousy in the Dark Lord's voice was unmistakable. "Who?"

Harry shook his head violently as the hand stroked him teasingly.

"Who?" The Dark Lord demanded again, tightening his grip.

Harry closed his eyes at the pain but shook his head once more. "It doesn't matter. It was before..." He let the sentence trail off into silence. There was no need to say before what.

"Good." The Dark Lord said, his voice satisfied. "I will not have to kill him then."

Before Harry could reply, the Dark Lord leaned forward and claimed his mouth savagely. Relaxing under the larger man, Harry let him stake his dominance. He let himself drown in the sensations that he had nearly forgotten over the centuries and he could not seem to remember feeling such a burning agony of desire with the other one.

When a finger was thrust with no warning into his body, Harry cried out. Although the Dark Lord had slicked it with something, it did not lessen the burning sensation or the awkward feeling of being invaded. Staring into the red eyes above his own, Harry felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as another finger joined the first. The Dark Lord's eyes darkened as Harry screamed when the searching fingers found his prostate.

Harry tensed in anticipation as the fingers were withdrawn and the Dark Lord pushed his legs back against his chest. The sudden thrust into his body caused all the air in Harry's lungs to leave in a rush and his back arched in pain. His hands reached up to clutch desperately at the Dark Lord's shoulders. Without waiting for him to recover, the man pulled out almost completely before driving back into him with more force than before.

Blinding waves of agony and pleasure coursed through Harry's body. The duality of the sensations made him shudder and a keening wail was driven from him every time the Dark Lord moved. Ruthlessly, the Dark Lord took him; his red eyes glowed with a raging light. They never left his face and Harry found he could not close his eyes to them. When at last he was pushed over the edge with a strangled scream, those burning red eyes narrowed with unsuppressed triumph.

The Dark Lord collapsed beside him and for a long time the only sound in the room was their haggard breathing. Shifting minutely, Harry grimaced at the sharp, stinging pain from his behind and the stiffness of his limbs. He turned his head to find the Dark Lord leaning on his side and staring at him fixedly.

"I am curious about something." The Dark Lord murmured quietly.

"Yes?" Harry asked when it appeared as though the Dark Lord was waiting for his response.

"What made you change your opinion of your esteemed Headmaster?"

Sighing, Harry felt lethargy stealing over him and struggled against it. "I found out his darkest secret. And I did not like it."

The Dark Lord raised a brow, intrigued. "Albus Dumbledore, the leader of the Light had a dark secret?"

"Yes." Harry spat, disgusted. "Leader of the Light he might have been but that does not mean he was perfect. Far from it in fact." Forcing down the anger that rose almost instinctively, Harry gave the Dark Lord a lopsided smile. "He didn't want the war to end. In fact, he did everything in his power to prolong it."

"Really?" The Dark Lord looked taken aback. "Why on earth did he want that?"

Harry frowned and looked away before answering. "When I confronted him about it, he told me that sometimes, when you finally get what you've been working for, you realize that it had been the process which had kept you going, not the prize."

The Dark Lord was silent after this pronouncement. Turning back to look at him, Harry found the man shaking with repressed laughter. "I don't think it's funny at all."

"Oh but it is, it is." The Dark Lord said after he had regained control of himself. "The Great Albus Dumbledore could not give up the war, or the game as he used to call it."

Harry snorted. "The game? Somehow I'm not surprised that he thought of it as such. I always felt like his pawn at any rate."

"Ah, but such a special pawn you turned out to be, Harry." The Dark Lord smirked at him. "You have power equal to the king."

A strange smile twisted Harry's lips but was gone almost the instant it appeared. The Dark Lord looked at him intently.

"Yes?"

"It's nothing, just something else Dumbledore told me." Harry waved a tired hand in dismissal.

"Tell me." The words were a hissed demand.

"Later." Harry stated firmly. "I don't want to talk about him anymore."

Red eyes narrowed at him suspiciously but finally the Dark Lord nodded. "Very well. I will indulge you in this."

"How thoughtful." Harry drawled.

"You will find that I can be very thoughtful if I wish to be, especially to my lover." The Dark Lord smirked at him smugly, running a hand down his chest.

"Lover? What does a Dark Lord know of love?" Harry inquired.

"There is a thin line that lies between hatred and love. You have hated me since the moment you were first told of my existence and my role in the deaths of your parents." The Dark Lord smiled. "And yet, after centuries in which your hatred has festered and grown, you have crossed that line, have you not?"

"Yes." Harry whispered, there was no us denying it.

"And you think I have not?" The Dark Lord asked. "Hate and love are not opposite; they are different shades of the same emotion."

"Then what is the opposite of love and hate?" Harry could not help but ask.

"Hate isn't the opposite of love...indifference is." The Dark Lord declared. "And for the two of us, who share connections so deep even death cannot separate us, there can never be indifference."

Harry let his eyes fall partly closed as he pondered the words of the Dark Lord. There was a truth there that he could not deny. His thoughts, no matter what path they wandered, always came back to the Dark Lord, to Tom Riddle. The intensity of emotions he felt towards the man could not be described by simple words. Hatred and love flowed together in his heart and no force on earth could divide them.

"You are right." Harry whispered at last. The Dark Lord smiled in smug satisfaction.

"Enough talk." He purred. "Rest. When we wake, I will show you what it means to be my lover."

Harry did not protest when the Dark Lord settled his body against him. The warmth of where there bare skin touched threatened to lull him to sleep but Harry bit his lip, using the pain to force himself awake. He tried to ignore the hot breath that tickled the back of his neck.

As he lay there on the bed with the Dark Lord curled contently around him, he faltered for a moment in his determination. Although he wanted to deny it, the words that had been spoken between them and the act that they had committed had softened the edges of his purpose. For just a fleeting second, he wondered if perhaps he had been wrong. Then his lips settled into a thin line and he growled softly. He had made a promise to his friends and to all those who had died in the war and the years and decades later. He would not go back on his word.

Slowly and with great caution, Harry slid out from under the Dark Lord's motionless body. The man only mumbled something under his breath before falling back into a deep sleep. Rising gingerly from the bed, Harry made his way cautiously to the corner of the room where the Dark Lord had sent their clothing. Fumbling tiredly, Harry grinned in satisfaction when his searching produced the small dagger he had fashioned for his purpose.

Gripping the dagger tightly in his right hand, Harry made his way back over to where Voldemort lay unsuspecting on the bed. He smiled sadly down at the man who he loved and hated over all others. Then, carefully, he sat back down on the soft mattress. He closed his eyes, sent a hopeful plea to whatever deity would listen that his plan would work and drew the dagger sharply across each wrist.

The stinging pain was almost negligible to Harry and the sight of his blood running sluggishly onto the mattress fascinated him. It almost disappointed him that he felt nothing more than that. He wondered briefly when the Dark Lord would begin to feel his own life draining away or if the man would even wake from his slumber.

After a time, Harry found that he no longer had the energy to remain sitting and eased himself back onto the bed. He laughed softly to himself as he felt his blood pool around his body, soaking his skin. It felt warm at first but it cooled quickly and Harry began to shiver almost uncontrollably.

He knew the instant the Dark Lord woke up but he could not turn to look at him. The stunned silence made him smile and he darted his eyes in the man's direction. Red eyes stared back at him in horror and the Dark Lord crawled over to his body.

"What have you done, foolish boy?" He whispered hoarsely.

"I told you Tom." Harry was surprised at the strength in his voice and felt a small spark of pride. "It is my destiny to kill you. And I found the way."

"Impossible." The Dark Lord hissed. "We are immortal. We cannot die."

"You are so arrogant. That was always your greatest weakness." Harry drew a deep breath, fighting off the darkness that had begun to creep over his vision. "The spell you used made it impossible for anyone to kill us, that much is true. And it is impossible for me to kill you or for you to kill me. But it does nothing if you wish to kill yourself."

A look of dawning horror crossed the Dark Lord's face. "You...why?"

"Because it is my destiny." Harry breathed quietly, finding it hard to draw air into his lungs. It would not be long now he knew and the Dark Lord was too weak himself to make an effort to save him. "Because I made a promise and I intend to keep it. And because I am tired of living."

The Dark Lord stared down at him with an unreadable look on his face. "If you knew that by killing yourself, you would kill me, why did you come here? Why did you offer yourself to me? You could have done this anywhere."

Harry smiled sadly even as tears slipped unnoticed down his cheeks. "Because I love you."

"So the Dark Lord Voldemort is brought down at last by the boy-who-lived." The Dark Lord murmured. His skin looked ghostly white and in Harry's darkening vision he seemed to glow. The man moved sluggishly closer and laid his head upon Harry's chest.

"I love you," whispered the darkest lord the wizarding world had ever known.

A smile still on his face, Harry uttered the last words Dumbledore had ever spoken to him as everything faded to black. "At the end of the game both the king and the pawn are put in the same box."

6


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